


Magic Kisses

by DrMarthaJones



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 11:33:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16809799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrMarthaJones/pseuds/DrMarthaJones
Summary: Three weeks after the death of Peter's parents, Aunt May questions whether she is good enough for Peter when she struggles to help him with a little injury





	Magic Kisses

May was interrupted in the middle of her book on childhood grief, by a thud, a shriek, and the patter of feet in the hall. May leapt up, dropping her book in alarm, already wracked with guilt. Every time something happened – a stubbed toe, or a bumped head (which was pretty common with Peter) – May felt incredibly guilty. Mary and Richard didn’t trust her and Ben with Peter just for them to let him get bumps and bruises. Even though she knew such thoughts were ridiculous.

But it had only been three weeks, and this was all still so new. May was still learning how to deal with childhood grief, while trying to completely ignore her own. She still found herself wanting to send Mary a cute picture of Peter, still found herself looking at her watch wondering when she would be here to pick him up, still thought she better ask her before giving him ice cream. Those decisions were hers now – hers and Ben’s – and Mary and Richard were not coming to get him.

May strode quickly into the hall, where she found Peter running towards her, face screwed up and covered in tears, arms outstretched, with a little cut on his knee. With an exasperated sigh, May scooped him up and carried him on her hip into the kitchen.

“My knee!” shrieked Peter.

“This is why when Aunt May says don’t jump off your bed, you don’t jump off your bed,” May said. “You jumped off your bed, didn’t you?” Why Mary and Richard had bought a six year old a bunk bed was a mystery to May, only topped by why on earth she and Ben had had it brought over here.

Peter stopped his crying and grumbled something unintelligible, which confirmed her suspicions.

“You monkey,” May sighed.

“Where are we going?” Peter asked, his shock clearly wearing off. May plopped him down on the kitchen counter.

“Well, I need a kitchen knife. We’re going to have to chop off your leg,” May said seriously.

“No!” shrieked Peter in delight, but she could see he was not entirely sure she was joking. It made her chuckle. This kid.

May reached up into the medicine cabinet to grab a band aid. Peter was looking up at her with his red, wet, little face.

“No, come on, it’s not _that_ bad,” May reassured him.

Peter shook his head seriously. “It is. It _really_ hurts.” He peered at it and yelled, apparently in surprise. “It’s bleeding!” His little eyes bugged out.

“Only a little bit,” May said quickly, still mostly unsure how to handle this. When they babysit Peter – or rather, _used to_ babysit Peter – Ben would normally handle the injuries. Quick as she could, she stuck the band aid over the tiny cut, so it was no longer visible. “There you go, tough guy, good as new.” She gave his knees a pat and made to lift him down from the counter.

“It still hurts,” Peter complained.

“Well, it might hurt for a little bit, but it’ll start to feel better soon. Look, you can’t even see it anymore.”

“Yes, I can,” Peter said, lifting the padded part of the band aid and trying to see underneath. May resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “You have to kiss it better,” Peter declared.

May blinked at him, unable to keep a smirk off her face. “I’m sorry, you want me to kiss your open wound?”

“Yes. Mummy has magic kisses that make my hurts all better.”

May froze. She closed her eyes and drew in a long breath. Before she had gathered herself enough to speak, Peter spoke again. He looked around sulkily. “When is Mummy coming to get me?”

“Oh, Peter,” May gasped. For awhile he had asked this at least once a day, usually at night, as he was getting sleepy. He was so used to being at their house, it made him feel like everything was normal. But his new reality had started to sink in in the last few days.

When May looked up, he had already remembered; his face was red, eyes filled with tears, pure shock the only thing preventing real sobs. And if he started bawling, she would start bawling.

“Oh, honey,” May said. “I know.” She did know, she knew how horrible this was, but she didn’t know what to do. She rubbed his knees. “Here, I’ll give you a magic kiss.” She quickly kissed his band aid.

“It still hurts!” Peter wailed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try again.” May crouched down and smacked kisses all over his knee.

“No, it’s not working! I want Mummy!” Peter cried, wiping an arm across his snotty face.

“Oh, honey, I know, I know,” May whispered. For the billionth time in the past few weeks, she wondered why on earth Mary and Richard would pick her; why in the world would they trust her with their child, what had they seen in her that they thought would be good for their son? She was nothing like Mary, she wasn’t nurturing like her, she hadn’t dreamed of being a mother, she didn’t know what she was doing. And the terrible reality was always in the back of May’s mind: they hadn’t picked her at all; they had picked Ben, Richard’s brother, and so Peter had just gotten stuck with her. And she couldn’t even help him with a little cut.

“I know, honey, I know.” May still couldn’t think of anything more helpful to say. What would Mary say?

“You don’t have the magic – only Mummy does,” Peter said, a furrow between his little eyebrows. He was almost angry. May looked up at him from her crouched position. He was right: she didn’t have what Mary had. But Peter was stuck with her, so she was going to have to be good enough.

May pulled herself up to standing. “You’re right,” she said quietly, brushing a curl off Peter’s forehead. “My kisses aren’t magic. But…you know you can always come to me with your hurts, and I will give you a hug…” May pulled him to her and wrapped her arms tightly around him; he seemed to fit perfectly against her chest.

“Or a kiss…” She held his shoulders and planted a kiss on the top of his head. Peter was watching her closely now.

“Or…a _tickle_ ,” she reached out and tickled his belly and Peter shrieked and curled his body up into a ball, laughing. May sighed. This kid.

“And I will _always_ help you with whatever’s hurting you. Okay? And if you have that, you don’t really need magic, do you?”

Peter shrugged and kicked his legs against the counter. “I guess not.”

May stepped back. “Good,” she said. Then, quite unexpectedly, she burst into tears.

“Aunt May!” Peter cried.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, kiddo,” May said, wiping furiously at her eyes. She was going to seriously screw him up, letting him see her like this.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, I just miss Mummy. You know how we talk about how much we miss Mommy. And Daddy. I just wish she were here for you. And…for me. I just wish…” I could ask her what I’m supposed to do. I wish I could ask her if it was always this hard for her. I wish I could ask her if I’m doing a good job. “I wish she were here,” May pressed her hand to her chest, trying to calm herself.

“Me too,” Peter said, and now he was getting teary again too. He touched the hand against her chest. “Are you hurting?”

“Yeah, kiddo, my heart is hurting at the moment.”

Peter examined her for a second, then leaned forward and kissed her hand over her heart. May blinked, surprised.

“Magic kisses!” Peter cried, throwing his hands in the air. “I got the magic from my Mummy. You’re all better,” he declared.

May burst out laughing and blubbering all at once. Like magic, she did feel better.

“Oh, Peter, I love you. More than anything in the whole wide world,” May surprised herself by saying. This was the very first moment that this was true. As much as she had loved her nephew before, as much as she had known these past three weeks that he was her priority now, this was the very first moment that it was true.

Peter’s eyes lit up. “More than Uncle Ben?”

“Yes, more than Uncle Ben,” May chuckled.

“Will he be sad?” Peter asked, with a look of glee on his face.

“No, he won’t be sad. He’ll be so happy to hear it,” May said. She wrapped him up tightly again, pressed her face into his hair and breathed him in. This kid.

She hadn’t done what Mary would have done in this situation. It wasn’t what Ben would have done, and it _definitely_ wasn’t what Richard would have done, but it seemed to have worked for Peter. So maybe she was going to be good enough for Peter after all.


End file.
